


Une Déclaration D’Amour

by njckle



Series: claws and polka dots [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, F/M, Flirting, Idiots in Love, Kissing, LadyNoir - Freeform, Makeouts, Marichat, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Post-Reveal Love Square, ladrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njckle/pseuds/njckle
Summary: It starts out with a joke.“You said you can leave me swooning.” She taps her lips. “Prove it.”





	1. j'ai besoin de toi

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic in storage for a while, so it's good to finally have it posted! Once again, I've incorporated some French words because, well, I liked how it was done in The Book Thief, so I decided to give it a go for this fic.
> 
> Let's start off with some ladynoir, shall we?

“Do you ever wonder how things would've gone if we'd known each other when we met?”

Ladybug tears her gaze from the glow of the Paris skyline and focuses on her partner. They're on an iron beam high above the city, near the top of the tower, and the sounds of civilizations are softened, like the volume of a radio turned on its lowest setting.

“Sometimes,” she says, craning her neck to better smile up at Chat. “But I like how things turned out.”

He smiles back, the tower lights blending the black his mask to his shadowed skin seamlessly. “Me too.”

They lapse into comfortable silence, back to watching the bustling city below them. The glow of the streetlights gives the ground a heavenly aura. With the gentle breeze and the cloudless sky, not to mention the lack of akuma attacks, it’s incredibly peaceful.

“But what if we did know each other? I’m not sure about you, but I think—”

Something between a groan and a laugh escapes her. “Adrien…”

“No, no, hear me out.” He bends low to be more in her visual. “Do you think you would've acted the same knowing who I was?”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she says, more as a joke than anything else. She's not really sure herself. Maybe, if she'd known he was the Adrien Agreste, she might've freaked out a little, but she's not going to tell him that.

He doesn't accept take her cryptic answer. “I bet I would've swept you off your feet!”

She laughs. “Swept me off my feet? _Naaan._ I don’t believe that. You can't even last a kiss.”

He presses his hand against his chest in fake offense. “Says you! You'd be the one swooning over my kiss!”

That gives her an idea. “Really? Then prove it.”

He stops short, sputtering. “What?”

“You said you can leave me swooning.” She taps her lips. “Prove it.”

“Now?”

" _Bah oui._ Yes,” she says, closing her eyes. “Here. I won't look. Hows that?”

He's quiet. And then, “ _Sérieusement?_ Seriously?”

Days has turned into weeks, weeks into months, their identities long revealed, and they’ve done nothing to change their dynamic, which is fine (maybe it’s a little weird because he likes her and and she likes him and they should do something about it, _obviously_ ). Here and now, with her mask on and the night in full swing, she’s feeling adventurous. She’s lucky enough to make the change happen and, if nothing else, she’ll get a laugh at his expression. Her kitty is an open book.

“Seriously.”

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, just as she worries she's scared him off with her forwardness, she hears the rustle of his suit, the soft ring of his bell, as he moves closer. His hot breath hits her face as he hovers over her and the tips of his hair brushes her forehead.

She tips her head up, waiting.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, almost hesitant. Only a fleeting press of his lips, there and gone as he inches back.

Ladybug grins, already sensing victory. “ _Continue..._ Keep going…”

This time he acts on her invite quicker, dipping down for another try. Slow and steady, so unlike Chat’s that she can only assume that he’s giving her time back out whenever she feels uncomfortable. A gentleman through and through.

It's far from unpleasant, so she brings him closer to deepen the kiss. He answers immediately, inching forward with his body, practically dangling from the beam overhead. Funny, she thought she'd be the one hanging.

She wants to laugh at her past self, the little girl who'd refused to consider her partner in hopes of her crush finally reciprocating her feelings. How foolish she'd been, so oblivious to the possible wonder that came from kissing the most important boy in her life. If only she'd known how her crush would turn out to be the cat boy who’d declared his love time and time again, known the ecstatic feeling that the closeness of his body could inflict on her, or how the mere smell of him would leave her wanting more.

She pulls at his collar, hard.

If it were anyone else, they would have fallen, but this is Chat Noir, her partner and friend, who has more balance than any Olympic gymnastic could ever dream of. He merely breaks away to go with the momentum and flip onto the space next to her.

Before she knows it she's falling back and pulling him along with her, opening her mouth to let him in. The iron beams are just big enough for them to lie down, but slim enough for Chat to have to remain above her. She feels him breath, his pulse solid through the latex of her suit, and shivers when he gently places his hands at her waist, thumbing the jut of her hip bones.

The wind doesn’t bother her, the warmth of his body fending off the chill and sending her own temperature rocketing as her heart quickens. She hums when he shifts ever closer, pressing her palms against his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs along the edge of his masks, and he presses harder against her mouth.

She sighs. Now this is something she could get used to.

Then, without warning, the feel of his lips are gone and she's left thoroughly disappointed. It takes her a moment to open her eyes, and when she does, Chat is red-faced, but grinning devilishly at her. “Gotcha _._ ”

She blinks. “What?”

His grin gets bigger, the smug air to him putting a frown on her face. “Looks like I've kissed you senseless, my Ladybug.”

The entirety of what just happened comes to her, reminding her of exactly who’s on top of her and just what they were doing the last however many minutes. She had made fun of him for being all bark and no bite, and here she is, forgetting herself over a simple kiss.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she says, half believing it herself. She isn’t _swooning_ per se, not really.

“Then what do you call this?”

“It’s…” Nothing comes to mind, no explanation to help her prove that she isn’t the one who’s in way over her head. Now’s a perfect time for her to say something to make him blush and lose his swagger, she realizes desperately, if only to put her on top of the conversation. She flutters her eyes. “Adrien—”

He cuts her off with another kiss, this one with less chivalrous intention and far more force (against her better judgement, a little part of her isn’t mad). Before she can bring her fist back and give him a solid reminder of what kind of person she is, he tears away so fast it leaves her gasping.

His breath is hot on her face and teeth white against the shadows of his mask. “ _A plus._ Later, Princess.” Then he's jumping away and down the monument before she can stop him, reaching the bottom just as she scrambles to her feet.

She feels heat crawling up her neck to her cheeks, embarrassed at being beaten at her own game. This isn’t what she planned, to be the one left hanging—after their first kiss, no less.

“Chat Noir!” she yells and stomps her foot as if she could stop him in his tracks with her anger. His laugh is loud, echoing back at her, and her heart can't help but flutter at the delighted sound.

She's definitely going to get him back for this.


	2. je t'adore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of sinful, but not really.

Adrien knows his day is going to get interesting when he spots something glaringly red fly past the window.

He looks to the door of the bedroom, but doesn’t spot Nino, who’d left with a promise to get some food for Plagg and his best camera all in preparation to capture some first person footage of him racing through Paris for Alya. The Ladyblog would be getting a lot of hits if it worked out.

Curious, Adrien opens the window and peers out. At first he only sees Nino’s neighbors going about their lives, the usual pedestrians passing by on the street below, before moving his gaze up to the rooftops. He grins when he sees Marinette, donning her spots, perched on a balcony across the the street.

He waves.

“Are you going to come in?” he calls out when she doesn’t wave back. She shakes her head furiously. “What’s wrong?”

That’s the wrong this to say, apparently. Ladybug’s cheeks puff out in an incredibly adorable way, but the rest of her body language tells him that she’s not happy.

Not wanting to draw attention, Adrien motions her to come over, but she still refuses to move from her spot. He can’t just continue on with his day knowing she’s there, especially with Nino gone, but, when she’s still uncooperative after a few minutes of his insisting, he assumes she wants to be left alone (maybe she’s planning something and he’ll find out sooner or later). Turning back inside, he decides he’ll leave her be until she’s ready to tell him what’s on her mind.

That is before he finds himself ensnared, the string of her yo-yo digging into his clavicle as he’s pulled back. “Wha—hey!” Barely keeping his footing, he spins and comes face to face with a blue so bright he feels the need to blink.

He's dealt with Marinette’s edgy personality as both a civilian and superhero, one dictated by righteousness and priority, but this girl in front of him is different. She's angry, not in the same way towards villains and bullies, too intense and frantic.

Not noticing anything past her anger, Ladybug pulls her yo-yo string, forcing him closer with every deliberate tug. “Why did you do that?”

Adrien tries to get past the lag, to understand what’s being talked about. How did she get in the room without him noticing so fast? “Huh?”

She pokes him in the chest, getting right up in his face so he can count her freckles (he can’t decide whether it’s too close or not close enough). “Yesterday. Patrol. Eiffel Tower.”

Oh.

_Oh._

A smile makes its way onto his face. “You couldn’t stop thinking about our little kiss, my Lady?”

His words only seem to make her angrier and he doesn't know if he should be pleased or worried. She twists her lips, eyes narrowing at him in a glare. “You—we—I mean, yes, I—but no, you just—”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Yes!”

The blunt and slightly desperate reply surprises him. It's then that Adrien takes in the girl before him.  He's seen Marinette out of her element countless times (a few of them by his own design just to mess with her), just as flustered like this, but not when she's wearing the suit. **"** _C'est une blague?_ Is this a joke?"

“You,” she growls, suddenly angry again, “don't know who you're dealing with!”

Worried, he should definitely be worried.

“Hey, dude, does Plagg eat—Marinette?”

They both whip their heads to the door opening. Nino stops short of the doorway as he takes in the scene.

Adrien has no idea what to say to explain the situation, seeing as he has no idea what's happening himself, and struggles to string a simple sentence. “We, eeeuuh…

Ladybug doesn't have that problem. She grabs a fistful of the back of his shirt, pulling him to the window. “I'm going to borrow him for a while.”

Adrien is just as confused as Nino, and, in unison, they say, “What?”

They don't get an answer because the girl in red is already launching herself up and out the window, Adrien following right after her.

He doesn't have time to scream, one second in Nino’s room and the next having a good twenty feet between him and the street below. Without his suit, the lack of solid ground under his feet sets his pulse rocketing (not that she'd drop him, but he couldn't convince his heart of that).

“What are you doing?” he yells over the wind as they zip past startled Parisians who stare from below.

Ladybug doesn't answer, vaulting them over an intersection and swinging between two apartment buildings. She brings him to the roof of the Palais Garnier, passing over the sea of people and security. It's a messy drop and he barely stays standing, landing on the roof hard and slipping down the gable.

“Marinette, wh—” She’s on him instantly, pushing him until the stone of the bannister digs into his back. She grabs his face and, before he can do or say anything, kisses him straight on the mouth.

His brain fails him, stuttering to a screeching halt, not expecting anything remotely like this.

The good thing is that his body goes on autopilot while his brain tries to catch up; it relaxes, leaning forward, and responds without hesitation. He cranes his neck and turns his head just so, immediately feeling her adjust accordingly, kissing him from every angle possible. Then she's surpassing him, pushing against him harder and with so much passion he's barely holding on.

He fights back desperately to feel more of her lips. They're soft and warm and he's way over his head, even more so they open and give him access to her mouth. She's everywhere, in his head and under his skin, and her lips and tongue are taking up his entire focus. Her name fills his mouth and he's melting under her like love struck sap.

He’s been kidnapped and it's downright amazing.

Being tied up only becomes more frustrating, his hands itching to reach out, to give him more of her. They remain stuck to his sides while she's free to do whatever she wants to him, using it to her advantage. And she does.

Her hands run their course down his neck and across his shoulders, fingers dancing at his chest until it he can't bare it. He strains against his bonds even harder, chasing after her when she takes a breath; he needs to satisfy the antsy feeling under his skin and he can't do that if he's not connected to in some way.

“Slow down, kitty,” she tuts against his lips, keeping just the right amount of space between them to leave him desperate and wanting more. She's teasing him, blatantly so, and he can't find himself to be angry, not when she goes back to kissing him fully and thoroughly.

He considers himself properly disheveled when she pulls away sometime later—disheveled and incapable of coherent thoughts past _wow_ and _I can't believe that just happened_.

Ladybug leans back, her lips swollen and face red, appearing a mixture of proud and embarrassed. She taps the tip of his nose with a gloved finger. “Looks like we’re even.”

For the first time in his life, Adrien’s mind goes completely blank, no pun or joke able to get past as he stares. This isn't the outcome he expected when he made the first move the other night (and that's exactly where this is coming from, that he knows for sure). Nothing could prepare him for the full force that was Marinette.

Ladybug steps back, more amused than concerned about his silence. “What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

It's another blow, one that leaves him reeling. At this point, Adrien doesn’t think he could take a step by himself, his legs like jelly and his head feeling far too light to be healthy. Without her support, his knees give out and he slides to the floor.

The smile shining down on him is downright victorious and he’s only half aware of his jaw hanging loose. It snaps close when she kneels before him and practically straddles him, ignoring his squeak.

“I take it back,” she breathes into his mouth. “I'm not done yet.”

Time passes in a blur as she explores his mouth, kissing him until he's lightheaded, encouraging his moans and breathless pleas. She shifts just so, eyes open and bright and watching how it leaves him jittery. Then she does it again, adding a twist of her hips that has him lifting his own hopelessly.

“Someone’s going to see us,” he pants as a means to escape, the words barely making it past the wall of her mouth. He strains against the yo-yo strings again, more than desperate to free himself, his hands clenching at the sight of her curves flushed against him.

She doesn't stop, curling her fingers into his hair to tug him closer. “No they won't.”

Adrien can't argue, not when she abandons his mouth to trail kisses down his jaw and throat, her velvet lips scorching every patch of skin she touches. He makes a strangled sound, but tilts his head back to give her better access, the back of his head painfully pressed against the uneven stone behind him. She nibbles her way back up once she's left a hot trail of red skin on his neck, not stopping until she's at his ear. There she presses her tongue flat and he nearly loses it.

“Marinette…” he pleads.

A cold wind rushes by and he lets out a ragged gasp when it chills the skin still damp from her ministrations. Adrien’s practically shaking when she takes pity on him and stops, his breathing loud between them compared to the muted background of the city.

She leans forward, tracing her finger from his collarbone to his chin like he's a pet who deserves praise for behaving so well. If he'd been transformed, she would've flicked his bell, he’s sure about that. “Now we're even. _On se casse?_ Should we get out of here?”

Without needing to be asked, Ladybug drops him back through Nino’s window (not that he remembers most of the journey). That's not all she does, giving him one or two more kisses that leave him a comatose vegetable.

He doesn't remember being untied, only blinking past the stars and finding her giving him a little wave. “See you tonight, pretty boy.”

With a skilled throw of her yo-yo, she's gone, swinging away until a building hides her from view.

Adrien stands there, by all means broken. It takes him a moment to start breathing again. Another to convince himself that what just happened really did happen. No dream, just plain reality. He stumbles back, needing to sit down.

… and misses Nino’s bed, falling back in an awkward mess on the ground. The pain blooming in his lower back is nothing compared to the fire in his chest.

Plagg floats into view, peering down at him with an expression almost akin to pity. “Weak.”

Adrien can't find it in himself to retaliate, his chest still heaving while his mind floats around in the clouds. He goes back to Marinette’s last words, mulling them over. See you tonight, she'd said. Tonight, tonight, tonight, what were they doing tonight?

It hits him. Patrol. They had a patrol planned. He would have to see her, face her satisfaction at leaving him completely incapacitated. She _planned_ this.

He never stood a chance.

Covering his face, he groans, “Kill me now…”

Plagg offers no sympathy, calling him a love struck fool, an even bigger sap than all previous Chat Noir's combined. “Weak,” he says again.

When Nino finds him back in his room, Adrien hasn't moved an inch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: marichat


	3. je te désire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sinful than the last chapter.

To say that Marinette isn't a least bit paranoid would be an understatement.

She has a good reason to be, expecting an ambush any second, and for every moment it’s prolonged, her anxiety rises. Swinging through the city, fighting Akumas, none of that compares to now. By the time Alya makes it to her house after her spur of the moment invite for a study session (on a Sunday night no less), she’s frazzled and jumps at every sound.

Cornering her partner hadn’t been part of the initial plan, a spur of the moment that turned into something far more heated. She’d only want to get him back, give him a taste of his own medicine. It was his fault for starting the whole thing.

(“Even though you were the one who started it,” Alya had said once she’d heard the entire story. “You dared him to do it, girl.”

Marinette had blushed then. “That’s not the point!”)

So when a familiar head pops through the above her bed, she knows her time’s up.

“Someone didn't meet up for patrol.” Chat hops down to where their school supplies is splayed out. He toes one of the textbooks. “ _Tu fais quoi?_  Homework? Really? That's your excuse?”

Marinette freezes. She could've sworn she locked the door to the balcony, not to mention every window. "No,” she says, slipping from her seat and immediately taking shelter behind Alya. “Don't you dare. Don't you _dare_ , Adrien.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” The look Chat gives her is one of pure innocence, but she sees right through it, keeping a good distance between them at all times. She’s already buzzing and he hasn’t even touched her yet, but there’s no way she's going to let herself be cornered in her own room. “I’m just wondering why you bailed last minute when you were so _keen_ on seeing me. You wanted to rub it in, right?”

“Yes—no, no, I did not—”

“Really? Well, I know how to lift your spirits,” he says. “Since you were so nice enough to visit me today I thought I should return the favor.”

“I love this.” From her spot on the floor, Alya looks like she's watching movie, fascinated. “You two just keep doing what you're doing.”

Marinette glares at her friend, only to jump back when Chat tries to use her moment of distraction to get the upper hand. They circle around Alya, dodging back and forth in a never ending game of tag.

She needs a leverage over him. She needs…

He follows her gaze, spotting the spray bottle strategically placed on her desk. It hadn’t been there his last visit and with one shared look she knows he knows. He grins.

She's lunges for the it the moment Chat rushes her.

Tikki’s luck must be rubbing off her civilian self because her fingers grasps the bottle just as Chat grabs her forearms. She's at a disadvantage, with him in his suit and her without her spots, but she manages to spritz him straight in the face.

He sputters, but keeps a tight hold on her. Despite her best efforts, he winds an arm around her waist. Three spritzes and Chat’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, but still he doesn't let go. Marinette keeps spraying him until the bottle’s almost empty.

When his free hand grabs the spray bottle and tosses it aside, Marinette gets desperate, shoving him into the table’s edge. That doesn't work, so she elbows his side, then tries to kick his feet from underneath him when that proves useless as well. The chair at her computer desk topples to the ground with a solid _thud_.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Alya hisses, frantically pointing to the ground, “clueless parents downstairs! Ring any bells?”

“Got it,” Chat grunts past Marinette’s hand pushing at his face. “Quiet kidnapping.”

He lets her go and Marinette’s nearly on the table when he pulls her back.

“W-What are y-you doing?” she squeaks, skittering away, but it’s all for naught because a second later her feet leaves the ground. A mangled sound escapes her as he throws her over his shoulder.

“Payback.” There's no time to reply, Chat climbing up the ladder and out to her balcony.

“ _Aidez-moi!_ Help me!” Marinette hisses at Alya, praying that her friend will do something—anything to get her out of this mess.

“Just bring her back in one piece, you hear me Adrien?” Alya calls back, doing nothing when she sees Marinette scrabble with brick. “We still need to study!”

So much for best friends...

Chat gives her a thumbs up before hoisting Marinette higher (she doesn't squeal, she almost sure of it) and slanders across her balcony without a care in the world. He makes a show of slowing his strides, a certain hop to his step. Marinette makes a half-hearted attempt to free herself, pounding at his shoulder. She twists and kicks for any chance to loosen his hold, but no dice.

He leaves Marinette’s rooftop in his usual manner: by simply stepping off it’s edge.

Nights spent vaulting off rooftops has given Marinette a sort of comfortability with heights, so she's not as thrown off as she could be—that isn't to say she’s comfortable with leaping from rooftops without her suit. But she hates that she gasps and clutches at his shoulder when he vaults them over rooftops, and she especially hates it when something akin to a shriek comes out her mouth when he blatantly leaps down into a deserted alley.

The tightened grip on the back of her thighs tells her it hadn’t gone unnoticed and a laugh lets her know that it won't be forgotten.

The moment his feet are planted firmly on the ground, Marinette starts struggling again, only this time she doesn’t have to. Chat sets her back on her feet in one fluid movement, waggling his eyebrows at the tangled mess the wind has reduced her hair to and the redness of her face from the chilly air.

What she wants to do: say something cool and witty that'll leave the black cat stuttering.

What she does instead: punch at every inch of suit she can reach.

Laughing, Chat easily restrains her wrists to stop her attacks, holding them between them. “What? Don't princesses love to be swept off their feet by some daringly handsome knight?”

More than anything she wants to wipe the goofy smirk off his face, preferably by kissing him senseless. Marinette’s feels her cheeks burning. _No_ , she chides herself, _none of that_.

“Well, my Lady?” Chat asks as he dons a light kiss to her knuckles, unaware of her inner slip up. “Are you feeling swept off your feet yet?”

If she's being totally honest, she's starting to. Gone are Chat's childish flirts, replaced by something far more alluring; every move is deliberate and planned, spelling out trouble for her. Attempting to save face, Marinette lifts her chin and musters as much snark as she possibly can. “As if. You're losing your touch, kitty.”

“Oh?”

The Cheshire grin that lights up on his face makes her audibly gulp, but that might be because his lips are still pressed to her hand while the other is held close to his heart. She rips them out of his grasp still tingling.

Tikki is still in her room with Alya and unless there's an akuma attack, that's where she'll stay. No chance of transforming and beating Chat at his own game. Marinette's on her own.

“If I'm losing my touch, then you wouldn't mind it if I did _this_?” He grabs her hand back, pulling her forward along with it; she squirms when he wraps an arm around her waist, securing her against him in a way that's far from platonic. Close contact isn't something she needs right now, especially with him in a secluded area.

She can’t help but shiver at the grin he gives her. Oh, she's definitely in trouble.

Aloud, she says, “Nope.”

“Really? You wouldn't be lying to me, would you, my Lady?” he practically purrs against her wrist and Marinette wishes that she was dealing with the embarrassed kitty she'd encountered last time.

He's a model and, in that moment, it's incredibly unfair how attractive he is. He knows how much she likes him, how much she’s captivated by his charm—especially in a tight-fitted suit. This game, his attitude, it's all to get her flustered and, much to her embarrassment, it's working.

What makes it worse, he's doing this on _purpose_.

“I'm not lying.”

“What are you thinking about then? How handsome I am? How much of a lucky girl you are you have me?”

Mariners scoffs, hoping to appear in control. Somewhere in the distance she can hear the city life, a honk or two from a passing car, and she starts planning her next move. “I'm just thinking about how it would look if someone passes by and sees Paris’ very own Chat Noir terrorizing a young girl.”

“Me? Terrorize you?” He laughs at her, teeth white and perfect.

“Yup,” she says, poking his nose as hard she can. It works and he lets her go with a disgruntled noise. Time to make her daring escape.

She turns and he's there. Marinette frowns, not affected the slightest (nope), and spins on her heel. She’s determined to march out of this mess with her all of her dignity intact and nothing he could do will stop that.

Again, he's in front of her, smug grin in place. Then again. After the fifth time, she’s more than annoyed. For once, she wishes that he weren't so silent and quick because this is getting frustrating _fast_.

“ _Non mais oh!_ You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“More than I should.” It's brutally honest and teasing all at once. “But, to be fair, you make it so easy.”

Okay, that's a bit insulting. Her? Easy? She's Ladybug, a tough as nails hero that saves Paris everyday, and he’s calling her _easy_? No doubt about it, she's definitely going to punch him again.

He continues on before she can say or do anything. “I was serious when I said this is payback.”

Marinette steps away, her annoyance washed away at the sight of his eyes. They're practically glowing in the shadows of his face, pupils thinning right before her very eyes, like she's his prey that needed to be caught. He slips right back into her personal space and, before she knows it, her back is hitting the wall and there's nowhere to run.

He steps forward, the only barrier between them less than an inch of space. One more and her hands are pushing against his chest in a last attempt to regain some sense of control of the situation. “I really want to kiss you, Marinette.”

No words escape her, caught in her throat at the boldness. Kissing as Ladybug is one thing, an endless supply of confidence and power at her disposal. Kissing as Marinette is another. She can be confident, she knows, but this is something that’s far too knew and intense for her to swagger on through.

Except he's right in front of her. They’re so close she can smell his cologne, taste it on her tongue. He's towering over her, teasing her with his perfect face and his perfect chin. Not to mention his _mouth_.

She desperately wants to kiss him.

Their noses are brushing against each other's and Marinette feels his breath against her cheek. “Can I—”

“Yes,” she hears herself saying. Weak, she's so weak.

And then he's kissing her and her mind becomes too fuddled to consider anything but the sensation of his lips on hers. They're soft just like she remembers, fearlessly flattening against hers in a manner that's far from gentlemanly.

He pulls her close, the heat from his body enveloping her entirely, and she can only grip his sides to keep herself steady. He cradles her face, angling her head to kiss her even more, again and again and again. It's absolutely heavenly and she sighs into his mouth, welcoming his tongue when it slips past her teeth.

She thinks it's cut too short when he begins to pull away, not ready for it to end, not when she's just gotten the hang of this. That's why she's the one grabbing his neck and forcing him back onto her. She's gone from being pushed against the wall to pulling him into the darkness with her. Chat grunts and Marinette feels proud at catching him off guard; he's not the only player in this game of cat and mouse and she’ll remind him as many times as she has to. This might be payback, but she can twist it so she's the one on top.

His hesitation only lasts for a second, hands finding the swell of her hips; little pricks itch her skin where his claws catch her shirt, nothing worth complaining about (so she doesn't). There's no one to tell them to stop, no one to interrupt the moment that goes on and on and on. Childlike fantasies mix with heavy desire, warping into a reality that has her willing to give herself to him completely: every princess wants a prince and she isn't the exception. She realizes she wants him to take control, to keep touching her and kissing her, to send her spiraling. That's why she spreads her legs wider, sighing when he settles more against her core, the heat of his body burning through her jeans, scorching her skin.

His fingers twitch at the strip of skin showing where her shirt has ridden up to her lower ribs and a small part of her gets embarrassed at how she hadn't noticed it until now. Another more mature and desperate part of her wants him to bypass it entirely. She wants to know how it feels to have his hands slip underneath, to drag his claw across her skin, to hold her by the hips and—

She gasps and her knees give out.

Chat doesn't miss a beat, catching the back of her thighs and hoisting her up in one fluid motion. The bricks at her back are rough and cold, a stark constant to the slick, smooth feel of Chat’s suit rubbing against her front. Her legs wrap around his waist, and he takes it as a sign to press harder until their hips collide painfully.

He growls, the vibration in his chest strong enough for her to feel it, and he keeps kissing, sucking, nibbling, tasting, leading her to ruin as he ravages the sensitive skin of her lower lip. How pathetic she must sound, unable to stop the feeble noise from escaping, mewling and whining as he switches from working her raw to kissing her senseless.

There's too much to feel and she can't keep her hands still. They're in his hair, pulling, tugging, digging deeper, unable to stop. He responds just as passionately, swallowing every whisper of his name in between kisses like a prayer. _Adrien, Adrien, Adrien, Adrien…_

Car horns blare out, startling them so their teeth clack and they finally break apart, all heavy breaths and featherlight touches. Every part of Marinette burns, heat coiling in her belly and running down her inner thighs, and she can't seem to cool down. 

They stare at each other and Marinette notes that his eyes are no longer in slits, but blown so wide his irises are a thin ring of green. This close, she can see the reflection of a girl who looks like she’s been through a tornado.

He puts her down and her legs only shake a little before she gets her balance back. Even with her feet on the ground, he's still pressing her against the wall, lined up so perfectly that his heartbeat thuds against her chest. The night air is cool against her heated skin, grounding her to reality. Somewhere someone unlocks their car.

“Well, eeuuh…” There’s no way Marinette will ever let her parents find out about this. Their perfect, little girl, loitering in some dark alleyway, kissing one of Paris’ heroes. If anyone found out, cliche or not, she'd be in big trouble.

“How's that for payback?” Chat breathes against her ear, his voice dipped lower than she's ever heard it. “Did I sweep you off your feet, princess?”

“Yes,” she says shamelessly, unable to stop herself to following after when he pulls away. She's dazed, his messy hair still clutched in her hands, and wants nothing more to taste him again.

He purrs, his mouth brushing against hers in the faintest touch. “Good.”

Neither of them move. Chat hasn't taken his eyes off her, his gaze intense and dark. Then he grips her hips, hard, before slipping his hands up to her exposed waist to trail his claws along her lower ribs.

Marinette’s eyes flutter at the sensation. “What are you thinking about?”

“That you'll have to apologize to Alya for me.”

The words, “Why’s that?” are already on her lips when he pounces.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: adrinette.


	4. je veux être avec toi pour toujours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's finish this off with some good ol' adrinette. ;)

 

Adrien’s making his way to the front of the school when he hears his name. “Psssst! Adrien!”

“Did you hear something?” he asks Nino, stopping so the rest of his classmates have to go around him. None of them look like they were calling for his attention.

“Adrien!”

Nino nudges him, pointing, and Adrien turns to spot Marinette huddled by a corner, frantically waving at him. Unsure, he waves back.

That’s not what she wants apparently, judging by her exasperated expression. She jabs a finger at him and then at the ground at her feet. “Come! Here!”

“I wonder what she wants.” Nino starts toward Marinette. “We better go see, dude—”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Suddenly, Alya appears out of nowhere, dragging his friend away until they’re lost in the crowd of the student body. " _T_ _iens-moi au courant, Marinette!_ Tell me about it later!"

With nothing to do, Adrien makes his way over to his crush.

She grabs him once he’s within reach and drags him away from prying eyes. They end up in an empty hallway, cleared out of students desperate to leave their academic troubles until next week. Marinette makes sure to check for any stragglers before pulling him along into a random classroom. She locks the door behind them.

They’re still holding hands and Adrien can’t help but remember the last time he'd held her hand, leading her back to her roof. How he'd left her thoroughly kissed on her balcony, clothes in disarray and hair an utter mess.

(Even Alya had looked at him appraisingly in class, jokingly fanning her face and making him squirm and sink lower in his seat. Nino had been oblivious and confused, but would know soon enough, Adrien’s sure of it.)

Marinette must remember too because she quickly lets go of his hand.

“Hi,” she says.

He grips his bag strap a little tighter. “Hi.”

She's nervous, he realizes, and so is he. They've been fooling around each other using their secret identities, but when it comes to Marinette and Adrien, they're a hopeless mess. It's almost hilarious, completely laughable in fact, that Paris’ heroes can't handle relationships without the help of a mask.

It's just so strange because this was _Marinette_ , the girl who sat behind him in class, who stuttered and blushed, barely able to get a full sentence through whenever he was around. Marinette, who was timid and brave all at once, the spazzy girl who could fit in the role of a natural-born leader effortlessly. She was Ladybug, his partner, his friend, his crush.

Okay, he'll admit that he'd gotten carried away during their last little session. Their moment was more heated than anything he's ever done, prolonged even more when he kept her late into the night, kissing her in such a way that he father would never approve of if he ever found out.

It had been entirely worth it, hearing her moans, the constant mantra of his name on her lips, feeling her arch into him whenever he so much as pressed his hips—

He rubs the back of his neck, blushing, unsure of what to say. Puns weren't the way to go, not for this conversation.

Thankfully, Marinette takes the reins. “This week we, uh…”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, we—you and me—I—” She's redder than he's ever seen her, cupping her face as she stumbles through. “I’ve been thinking about you—because, well, because we've been k-kissing. I just wanted to say—to tell you I… l—lo…”

Adrien swallows the sudden lump in his throat. Wait…

“I…” Marinette trails off, mumbling the rest into her hands.

“What?”

He still can't understand her the second time around, even when he gets closer.

“Marinette, I don't know what you're saying.”

“I said… I… _loaf_ you.’”

Adrien freezes and both he and Marinette stare wide eyed at each other, silence stretching between them. He blinks owlishly, thinking, _did she just_ —

What she said finally catches up to him, the actual meaning of her words getting pushed to the side as he focuses on one specific detail. Loaf, she said loaf. As in bread.

He starts laughing, loudly.

“I thought it’d make it less awkward! _Va savoir pourquoi!_ ” Marinette wails (she's so easily embarrassed), covering her face with her hands in a cute attempt at hiding. “Don't laugh!”

“It was a great pun. Award worthy.”

“I'm never doing it again,” comes the muffled reply.

The nervousness between them fades in light of her joke, something that only Marinette could've accomplished. It's still slightly awkward, but that's expected between two kids who've been parading around in masks and making out like no tomorrow.

They can get through this.

“Puns aside,” he starts, because it's obvious what she was trying to say and he wants to hear it from her without the protection of a joke, “could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you right.”

Marinette, still covering her face, shakes her head.

“I won't make fun of you. Cat’s honor.”

“Yes you will.”

“I'm serious,” he laughs, stepping closer and prying her hands away from her face, “I want to know what you really think about us, no puns or jokes or anything like that.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she mumbles, looking away when he tries to catch her eye.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he finishes with a grin at her surprise. The night on the Eiffel Tower, it was the turning point, the thing that set all of this in motion, so of course he'd learn the rest of the phrase. It’s made everything different—made them different. “Tell you what, if you tell me I'll tell you what I think. Deal?”

Slowly, Marinette nods. She takes a deep breath, one that's comically cute, before plowing forward. “I've liked you for a… while. You you, not Chat Noir you. Ever since the umbrella—you know that one you gave me the first day we met? I acted like a total jerk towards you because of the gum and knowing Chloe. I thought, ‘Well, he’s probably the same.’ But you weren’t—aren’t! You gave it to me and I realized you’re really sweet and I just, ugh, I just started stuttering and making a fool of myself! I have no idea when it comes to this kind of stuff, you know?”

Adrien nods.

“And I also met Chat Noir that day and I thought he was kind of ridiculous. He spouted all these jokes a the worst of times—and I mean the worst. You had one for everything and I still have no idea how you come up with them... like, is your free time just spent thinking of them?” Adrien lets go of Marinette’s hands when she starts to wave them around, slowly getting into her speech. “And you were such a flirt! I mean, could a person who was that flirty even exist? How could I respond to your confessions of love when you kept going on and on about how beautiful and perfect I was. You went on and on and on and on…”

“I did,” he admits. “Sorry about that.”

“Well, now I know you were serious! I can't believe you meant every word!” She's staring at him now, wide-eyed. “But I was totally into Adrien so Chat had no chance. Not that I don't like him either! I like him and you… except you're the same person so I like both of you? I mean, I—I love both of you! Wait. What.”

She shuts her mouth, wide-eyed, but Adrien's already bending down to her level. He wants to kiss her right then and there, mask or no, but something holds him in place. Marinette or Ladybug, he won't force himself onto her.

He gingerly places a hand where her neck meets shoulder. “Can I…?”

She smiles, one that sets his pulse quickening because it's both Marinette and Ladybug wrapped in one, unsure and determined. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, but he can’t help but smile back because that's definitely a ‘yes.’

And when he closes the remaining distance between them, the feeling intensifies and spreads until he's pressed against her with no inclination of breaking away. He’s more than positive he'll never get used to the extraordinary sensation that is Marinette’s lips on his and her hands on his chest.

She takes control of the situation almost immediately, pulling him close by the collar until their chests are flushed against each other, backing up until they hit a desk. Nothing about it is worth complaining about, so he gives her free reign over him while he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist.

He puts everything he can't possibly convey in words into the kiss, tilting his head to get access to more of her and give her all of him. The heat of her sets him off, spurring him to press harder and savor every second because she was simply amazing, absolutely remarkable. Everything about her drew him in and he let's her know with every stroke of his mouth.

They separate far too soon, with blown pupils and swollen lips, and the sight of her has become something he's grown fond off. He'd like to see more if it, more of her like this, every day if he can.

“ _Je t'aime aussi_. I love you too,” he breathes, nodding to himself when the words sound like he's been made to say them.

Her fingers flit about his jaw and chin. “Pfft, what kind of confession is that? You think kissing me will get you out of your part of the deal? Tell me what you think, kitty.”

“I’ll just be repeating what I’ve been saying for years. I could make a speech if you want, but you don't like those, do you?” Marinette hums sweetly when he rests his forehead against hers. “Maybe I should just...” Adrien presses a quick peck at the corner of her mouth, but he doesn't stop there. With no control whatsoever, he speckles her face with kisses, getting out his confession between every one. “I. Love. You. Marinette.”

Her giggle has his own laugh bubbling up and out, basking in her presence. She’s blushing heavily, her pulse pounding under his fingertips when he slides his hand along her arm. And when he pulls her hand away from his face to intertwine their fingers, she's practically glowing. 

He kisses her, again, and again. Kisses her until his lips are sore. Kisses her until he's out of breath and can barely stand on his feet. He wants to kiss her and keep kissing her, to do it every day, at every chance he gets. He wants to—

Screams bring them back to reality.

It must be the years of experience that has them breaking apart and on alert. There’s more screaming, these more defined as they echo through the halls. Even without his cat ears, Adrien pinpoints the commotion coming from the back of the school.

“I am the Sweeper! Bow down to me or be mopped out of existence like the dirt you are!”

He groans, frustration building in his chest at the voice. Akuma attacks have never been convenient, but it's ridiculous that there happens to be one now, right in the middle of their moment. More than anything he wishes that Paris would give them a break just once.

Going on her tiptoes, Marinette gently pecks the tip of his nose. “We'll come back to this,” she promises, breathless but still smiling. “Later.”

He'll be counting down the minutes until ‘later.’

Right now, they had a mess to clean up.

She makes toward the door, but he pulls her back against him. “Where are you going?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“An akuma,” Marinette says slowly, like she's explaining something to a child. “I need to—”

“No you don't.” He looks around the room for show, spotting no one. “It's just us. No reason to hide.”

It only takes a moment for her to understand what he means and when she does, a sheepish expression settles on her face. It's absolutely adorable. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

He chuckles, everything about her endearing, and brings his hands up to cup her face.

“Plagg,” he says, keeping his gaze on her, “claws out.”

“ _Finalement!_ I was just about done with all this lovey-dovey stuff,” is his kwami’s reply. It's all a ruse, Plagg already half-smitten with his partner even if he doesn't want to admit it. Adrien knows this because he himself is already too far gone, no chance to even think that he wasn't in love with this girl.

In a blink, the familiar weight of his mask is settled across his face, moving comfortably against his cheeks as he grins. Through his suit Marinette’s skin is still warm and his heightened eyesight gives him a perfect picture of her flustered face, a constellation of freckles blinking up at him.

“Tikki,” Marinette breathes, leaning into his touch. “Spots on.”

Adrien kisses her, keeping his eyes open to watch the transformation. His whole world is consumed in red as the girl he loves burns brighter than anything he's ever seen, setting fire to his insides and his heart smoldering.

Nothing anyone could say would convince him that what he was feeling was just a simple crush. It didn't matter that he was still young, that he hadn't experienced all that life had to give him yet, what he was feeling was real. Love has no definition, no one person giving the same answer or having the same feeling, so who could say what this wasn't the real thing? That he wasn't so mistakenly and completely in love with this amazing girl?

It's difficult to kiss properly while smiling, but he can't stop—won't stop—not with the girl of his dreams in front of him turning this single moment into the happiest in his life. Duty calls, but here they are, making out.

Adrien can't find it in himself to care.

Like always, Marinette is his better half, breaking off and placing a finger on his lips before he can go in for another kiss. A stern look has him grudgingly untangling himself from her. “ _Allons-y!_ C’mon, kitty,” his partner teases, patting his cheek before leading him to the door by the hand, “we've got a city to save.”

Watching her back, Adrien feels that something's amiss, like he's forgotten to do something important. Confess his love. Check. Kiss her. Check.

“Wait.” His Lady turns at his call and all he sees is a raised eyebrow before he's pulling her back. He kisses her, long and hard, adding in a good dip to make it perfect (just like in the movies). When they resurface, her face matches her mask and he's extremely proud of himself to be the one that made her this way. “Now we can go.”

She grabs him, her fingers folding into the collar of his suit, and tugs him forward so their noses smash together. Gone is the sweetness from moments ago, her face twisted the same way as it was on the roof of the Palais Garnier. “You—”

“We have an akuma to deal with, don't we Princess?” he reminds her sweetly.

To make his point, a crash sounds around, more screaming following right after. To make his point, there’s a loud crash, more screaming following right after. Marinette lets him go, but jabs his chest. “You don't know who you're dealing with, kitty.”

He grins. “Oh, I think I do.”

She's definitely going to get him back for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be two more fics after this one in the series, both with Adrien and Marinette aged-up. ;) Until then!


End file.
